


A War is coming

by summer_time



Series: Biography of an Angel [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Akilea is Ian, Battle of Hogwarts, Blood, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Language of Flowers, Not Canon Compliant, Pre-Battle of Hogwarts, Preparation, Self-Sacrifice, Slice of Life, War, Wards (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:02:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29966805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summer_time/pseuds/summer_time
Summary: The second wizardly war is coming but only Akilea knows it: so she takes history into her hands and plans a different outcome for all the innocent people who are destinated to die too young, for the children who didn't have a choice on following Voldemort, and for the sake of all the others.Ian is reborn again in the Potter Universe but takes a different name, hoping someone understands her warning. Nobody does.
Series: Biography of an Angel [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1959094





	A War is coming

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again my lovelies! Time flies when you have a lot to do in the past months but I'm here again with a new addition to this collection. I want to reassure new readers that you don't have to have read the precedent installment to understand this story, so don't worry! 
> 
> English is not my first language and I have no beta, so if you find errors or mistakes, please tell me without problems and I will try to correct them as soon as I can.
> 
> Summertime ends here!

The Angel of Death is a mystical figure, capable of amazing and terrible things. Their mere presence screams of power, their voice strong enough to shatter mountains, hands capable of such clever – _bloody, so bloody_ – things. The Angel carries their duty without despair, fear, or weakness, only able to comply with their missions: be it protecting other people, destroying worlds, raise armies or face enemies alone.  
No man, no woman, no person could be their equal, for they are superior in both mind, body, and spirit: they are no longer human – not anymore - but something so much grander, so much stronger.  
  
(taken from: " ** _Biography of an Angel_** ", bearing the second life of the longest-lived Angel of Death in history; that the person behind Ian Moone - alias Azrael - could truly rest in peace at the end of her service.)  
  
₪₪₪  
  
“A war is coming! Please, protect us! A war is coming! Please, protect us! A war is coming! Please, protect us!”  
  
It’s the first night for so many new children, new blood in a dying world: they all carry joys and happiness in their little faces, so much potential in their heart and hands; their hopes and doubts, the sheer force of their imagination colors the Magic around the old castle, that swirls like a whirlpool.  
  
But the warning is heard, a chant that echoes around the halls, the corridors, the paintings, the lake, the forest: Hogwarts hear the soft voice, steady and brave, repeat her warning around all the ancient walls, going from the tallest tower to the lowest dungeon. The words are always the same, repeated a million times, even across the edge off the cold water of the lake, even near the first line of the Forbidden Forest’s trees; it travels in the depts of secret corridors, a mere whisper near the Headmaster and teacher’s rooms.  
  
(After all, whispers cannot be always heard, even for the paranoid Potion teacher, master of disguise and divided loyalties. Nobody can punish a whisper if they can’t hear it; and especially, if they don’t know who spoke it in the first place.)  
  
The castle listens closely to the little first year, who inexplicably knows all the right secret passages to go unnoticed to all the patrolling teachers, to all the prefects, ghosts, and most of the paintings. It listens to her little cry of protection, blood slowly dripping from careful wounds carved into her tiny finger: she lets drop one or two drops of red in all the armor she finds in her path, in all the stairs she encounters, near statues of animals and people. The blood is smeared near doors and gates, across the ground’s perimeter; small drops vanish in the calm water of the lake and the ground near the trees.   
  
This is the first night. And for every other night of the year, Hogwarts hear the small whisper of a small first year, who gave up freely her blood and her hours of sleep, who roams freely in the castle without anyone realizing what she is doing.  
  
“A war is coming! Please, protect us! A war is coming! Please, protect us! A war is coming! Please, protect us!”  
“Hogwarts will be surrounded. Manned the boundaries. Protect us. You will have to do your duty to our school.”  
“A war is coming!”  
  
₪₪₪  
  
The first encounter the future Golden Trio has with two of their future lieutenants is on the very first Hogwarts Express’s ride: they share a compartment, stories, family snippets, and some bitter truth. In this world, Ron and Hermione still collide a lot, but their bond happens two months earlier; Harry find not one, but four people who want to be his friend, who want to know him - not because he is The-Boy-Who-Lived some baby celebrity, but because he is Harry, the nice kid who brought candies for all of them; Neville too is an enthusiastic, shy and quiet child, and he doesn’t even imagine what kind of warrior is going to be. And then there is Akilea Moreleeves, who is very bony but happy to have found the exact people she was looking for.  
  
(She first cried in front of both Ron and Harry, covering her face with her hands, when the boys proclaimed to disdain all Slytherin, for they were all evil and dark; she cried crocodile’s tears, sobbing about not be evil but that Slytherin House was her best shot, the perfect house suited just for her. And if a different house disposition would have meant rude comment about her, from both Ron and Harry, then maybe they weren’t so much different from the approach of racist purebloods to muggle-borns.  
  
She pretended to calm down at the horror plastered in the boys’ faces and at their loud declaration that maybe the most recent bad guys were Slytherin but maybe there were other bad guys from all the houses.  
Akilea didn’t even feel perturbed at manipulating two children like that.).  
  
(Then she fronted at Hermione when the girl bossed her way into the compartment, commenting absently how glad she was at knowing more of the Wizarding World’s culture, how the books she read about laws and different magic species helped her with dealing with the goblins of Gringotts and, hopefully, with the centaur’s herd in the Forbidden Forest.   
  
She didn’t miss the look of confusion in both eyes of Hermione and Harry: she tasted their question on the tip of her lips, enthusiastic smile plastered on her face and calculation behind her eyes. She promised to lend them her multiples sources, with the promise of more research in the famous library of the castle: then, including Ron and Neville in the equation – _both purebloods, both so used to magic and too sheltered in dealing with the real World_ \- it only increased their feeble friendship.)  
  
(With Neville, she started a conversation around the similar sound of her name to the plant Achillea, a muggle officinal plant, used in medicine for its disinfectant and anticoagulant proprieties. Kind, shy Neville, who knew at heart the erbology’s curriculum like nobody else, who stemmed around words and action alike, thinking he was never enough and to much of a disaster.  
  
Plants need soil to grow stronger; they need water, lights, care, _love_. They may prevail in a hostile environment, but they can’t grow if they are suffocated: Neville can’t grow in the warrior he is – the man Akilea has seen so many times, in so different universes – if he couldn't shed the shell of insecurities he tagged along. And he should have shed it before rather than after because the Golden Trio will need their most trusted lieutenant: sooner than later.)  
  
₪₪₪  
  
“Slytherin, uhm?”  
“Yes. It’s my house, it’s my home.”  
  
Some things never change.  
(She whispers to the talking Hat her warning, the first to listen to her future chant. A war is coming, for all of them. All the Houses will lose in the end, because children will scream, will fight, and will die: Voldemort and his stupid minions are not – will never be – _Slytherin House_ and it’s time the people remember that.)  
  
₪₪₪  
  
After the incident with the troll, where all the upper Slytherin students were tense in worry, discontent flares up in the green-silver house – _how a person could be so blind in their Blaming Game, Akilea will never know_. How Albus Dumbledore, the most powerful wizard alive and a man of incredible intelligence, could send a quarter of the school into their possible death, without care - children send there without a teacher to protect them, in the very place the troll was supposed to be.   
  
“A war is coming! Please, protect us! Hogwarts will be surrounded. Manned the boundaries. Protect us. You will have to do your duty to our school.”  
  
The castle listens, it always is: the powerful magic of the old structure feeds of the gifts the tiny first-year freely gives, every night without hitches and with nobody the wiser. The wards stirred a little, thinking the troll was the war the small girl referred to: but Akilea’s magic tells them no, it’s not it, it’s not the troll but something more sinister, more terrific, more bloody. Like all the other wars.   
But it’s coming and so the wards of the ancient castle, that protected countless of children from the moment of its foundation, began to stir and wake, for they are meant to protect the innocent that live at Hogwarts, like noble Rowena thought, like wise Salazar planned, like strong Helga commanded, and as loyal Godric made it last.  
  
₪₪₪  
  
“You are not of this world.”  
  
It’s the chilling welcome Akilea received from the two centaurs near the border of the Forbidden Forest; she swallows, while the chilling wind of November plays with her hair, and nods – knowing she can do little to hide her true soul from magical species like the centaur. She waits a few moments, despite all curious about what they wanted to talk to her: they wouldn’t leave their herd in the middle of the night without a cause, and she is the only anomaly in their habitat at the moment.   
  
“Mars is very brilliant tonight.”  
She thinks it’s Firenze, the centaur that hallowed Harry to mount him during his disastrous night in the forest; she doesn’t know his companion and she doubts he will tell his name if not pressed.   
  
“A war is coming.”  
She replies with the only thing that connects the planet named from the Roman God of War and what she is doing every night. Her warning hangs in the air for a few seconds and then vanish: but now the herd is warned and maybe they will defend their territory from the future Death Eaters.  
  
₪₪₪  
  
At the end of the first year, Slytherin wins the Cup of Houses, and Akilea smiled so wildly, her cheeks almost hurt. Because they beat the spirit of Voldersnort, she played distraction to Professor Quirrell for Harry, for him to have time to destroy the mirror: with the Philosopher’s stone lost inside the various broken reflections, the wrath tried to hurt both of them but the wards of Hogwarts took care of it – _instead of Harry, kind and brave Harry_ \- expelling the gross thing out of the castle, away from the precious children.  
  
And so her house won the cup because Albus Dumbledore couldn’t reward all the Gryffindors and leaving her out, not when she was with Harry, not when she stood up to a fully capable adult buying time.   
  
(“And finally, to Akilea Moreleeves, I reward fifty points, for the cunning demonstrated in face of great evil.”)  
The Headmaster doesn’t know yet, but the loyalty Slytherin purebloods have always reserved for the Dark Lord has begun to crackle with every word spoken from Akilea, the tiniest first year of the entire school, who faced the Master of most of their parents with Harry Potter and won.  
  
₪₪₪  
  
At the start of a new year, Hogwarts continue to watch over the tiny second year, who still give up her blood for free, for the magic of the castle to use. She walks calm and steady, a little trail of red behind her, the same stream of words out of her mouth, the same warning all over again: the wards stir again, more awake than last year and prepare, accumulating energy for the immense shielding charm that one day they will do.   
The castle sees the little girl carefully smear her blood on her last tree, before healing the cut and return to her bed, not before comforting some first year in the common room.  
  
“A war is coming! Please, protect us! A war is coming! Please, protect us! A war is coming! Please, protect us!”  
“Hogwarts will be surrounded. Manned the boundaries. Protect us. You will have to do your duty to our school.”  
  
₪₪₪  
  
Gilderoy Lockhart is the professor Against the Dark Arts for exactly two months before an anonymous letter is sent to the Daily Prophet, denouncing his crimes and telling about inappropriate gestures towards underage boys and girls. The people are in an uproar, they want his head for the injustice he committed against the victims of his _Oblivio,_ for the money and the award he received: he is the fastest professor to quit in a decade.  
Akilea’s smug smile last an entire week.   
  
But even with a more competent professor, the petrifications still happens: but at least, a nuisance was dealt with.   
The Slytherin girl becomes a pariah with the Golden Trio, for like two weeks, when she refused to believe that Harry is the Heir, defending the boy both in Slytherin common room and out in the classrooms; the upper years seems to get the message in their skulls because the rumors die pretty quickly and only Malfoy and his gang pick fights with that excuses. It’s very satisfying in watching Hermione verbally destroy the blonde prat in front of all the Slytherin and Gryffindor second years.  
  
But then Hermione is found in the library, cold stone against the tips of fingers, with Pansy Parkinson – _of all people_ \- in the same condition: and so Slytherin house is deadly silent because Pansy is a proper pureblood, her parents use dark magic and some family members are not marked but they sympathized with the Dark Lord, some are loyal Death Eaters. But Pansy is now made of stone and Slytherin began to be afraid.  
  
₪₪₪  
  
Despite befriending Ginny and helping her reconnect with her childhood friend Luna, she is still taken in the Chambers; still, Harry and Ron, with Akilea watching their back, descends into the Chamber of Secrets to fights against another ghost of Voldesnort, the great idiot. They fight, they bleed and scream against the king of the serpents, the Basilisk who is now mad for all the time alone in a cave and the command of a memory of a brilliant boy.  
  
Still, Harry defeats the big serpent with Gryffindor's Sword, a slash across the deadly mouth; Ron proves his bravely, not only helping against the basilisk with distraction but he is the one to destroy the diary of Tom Marvolo Riddle, the object that nearly killed his only sister, that could still kill her. His screams of ager support his fear when he pierces the diary with a bloody fang Akilea gave to him: for his sister, who tried so hard to fight the malicious voice in her head; for his best friend, who could have died if not for phoenix tears; for his other friend, who fought with all her power and healed Ginny as much as she could – to keep her alive and away from the claws of Tom Riddle.   
  
They return in the surface covered in blood, grime, and sweat, for all the school to see: Hogwarts watched as his children are dragged in the infirmary wing as they told the Headmaster what exactly happens, about the diary, the chamber, the fight. Albus Dumbledore confirms the identity of Tom Riddle as Lord Voldemort and asks them to be silent, for this is an important piece of information that can weaken the enemy: Akilea swears she will not speak about this to anyone. So, of course, she writes a very long document on what happened to her and she hangs it up in the common room: telling the racist purebloods that their Lord, who is famous for preaching and killing for blood purity, is, in reality, a half-blood, is a way to weaken even now his base.  
Why don’t tell the world about this? Akilea doesn’t like Albus Dumbledore.  
  
₪₪₪  
  
In the night, the wards ask her if the Basilisk was the war she was preparing for, but the answer is no again. So they will wait.  
“A war is coming! Please, protect us! A war is coming! Please, protect us! A war is coming! Please, protect us!”  
“Hogwarts will be surrounded. Mean the boundaries. Protect us. You will have to do your duty for our school.”  
  
₪₪₪  
  
The Bloody Baron is perfectly visible against the entrance of her most used secret passage, the one that bypasses completely the door of Slytherin's dorm and allows Akilea to come and go as she pleases. He wears a complicated look on his face, something he always has when he looks at her.  
  
“Why are you doing this?”  
  
Akilea has a resigned smile on her face because the answer was always the same, so she chants once more, dripping blood near the wall.  
“A war is coming! Please, protect us! A war is coming! Please, protect us! A war is coming! Please, protect us! Hogwarts will be surrounded. Manned the boundaries. Protect us. You will have to do your duty to our school.”  
  
He will not speak to her ever again, none of the ghosts do, neither Peeves; they will only talk to her to answer the call at arms in the future years, to respond at the lieutenants in charge of the defenses of their home.  
  
₪₪₪  
  
The third year is the easiest of them all: the wards cannot do much to keep away the dementors, not with the explicit permission of the Headmaster, but Akilea’s blood is strong, so the influence of those dark creatures is less damaging than in other universes.  
  
“A war is coming!”  
  
The Slytherin girl acquits Scabbers from Ron, with the promises of good care in his last days ( _she may have lied about recognizing the symptom of a typical rat disease_ ), in exchange for a few galleons: Akilea doesn’t care much for the lost coins, now The Rat is hers; a stunner, un unbreakable cage, an anonymous letter, this time sent to Madame Amelia Bones, and the journal the next week all screams bloody murder. From title like “ **The real villain** ” to “ **History is being rewritten** ”, time flies and Sirius Black have his rightful process and is dear old Peter that receive the Kiss: not that Akilea is sad about it, is more annoyed that now she can’t exactly predict what will happen in the future.  
  
This year she also starts two little projects of hers, because it doesn’t exist being too prepared in war: so she goes in the seventh floor, where a door can appear at will or when there is a specific need, and enter in a room filled with the junk of countless children during all Hogwarts existence. She smiles crudely when the Horcrux screams in agony under the attack of basilisk’s venom eating through the diadem like it’s made of butter. The satisfied faces the Golden Trio gave her at the news is telling of how much sharper are, respect their original counterpart: not that Akilea is worried, they have a war to win in the future.  
(She gave the news to Ginny too, because the girl was the real victim of the diary; she was lied to and manipulated in doing horrible things and nearly died because of Tom Riddle.)  
  
(Ginny could only nod in thanks to the Slytherin girl, who keeps creeping her out and has a dangerous aura around her; but who also is a very good friend of both Ron and Harry, who gave her bits of advice to reform her friendship with Luna and saved her in the chamber. Ginny is still recovering, sometimes she can swear she heard Tom’s voice in the back of her head but knowing that another thing like the diary - _like the object of many of her nightmares_ \- is gone, is destroyed for good, fills her with happiness and a satisfying feeling.)  
  
The second project is more violent: the Room can form anything Akilea asks, every object is in her reach; so, she creates a bunker for when kids will have to hide in the belly of the castle, in fear of their teachers. She creates a little kitchenette, a library - when she asks for copies of all the books of Hogwarts’ library and add some title that can be useful from muggle books -, a considerable number of bedrooms – all with bunk beds and little bathrooms; then she asks for a place to stock weapons and one where they can practice: and when the Room reveal to her what there is in these new additions, Akilea orders to shut the doors to all but herself. When the time will come, she will teach all of them personally how to handle muggle weapons.  
  
₪₪₪  
  
Akilea now has fed enough blood that the wards of the castle - wards laid down by the Founders themselves and certificated by Merlin in person - could recognize the threat in the man disguised as another man, his ill intent clear like the cold water of the lake. So they prevent this man, this person who reeks of malice and dead people, from entering the grounds and no matter how the Headmaster tries, be to command them to stand down - to ordering them to let the man pass - the wards will not bend at his will: for there are children who might be hurt a cause to this man and the job their creators gave them, was to _protect_.  
  
(Barty Crouch Jr. doesn’t infiltrate Hogwarts, preventing Harry to be chosen as the fourth champion, so the homunculus Voldemort now has to find another ritual to give himself a new body. Cedric still dies at his hand in the end, Harry still grieves and Akilea still plots for the future. Voldemort reveals himself publically, mocking the Minister of Magic and the Headmaster, taunting the Aurors, and predicting the return of his reign.  
The wards ask again when the war she is warning from the first year, will arrive and the answer is: too soon. So she continues to drop blood on all Hogwarts, on the ground, on the forest, and in the lake, with her words for company.  
“A war is coming! Please, protect us! A war is coming! Please, protect us! A war is coming! Please, protect us! Hogwarts will be surrounded. Manned the boundaries. Protect us. You will have to do your duty to our school.”)  
  
(Akilea had to keep her laughter away the first time she saw a photograph of Lord Voldesnort, because the snake-face was so ridiculous even for her not normal standard, that she might well sketch him for later use. She absolutely does it on a lazy summer morning and the next year, all the Hogwarts’ common rooms have a detailed Snake-face for target shooting.)  
  
₪₪₪  
  
This year, Akilea decided she didn’t even care anymore if she became a pariah in her own house: Dolores Umbridge and her quill of torture should have stayed the hell away from children; she will have to open challenging her, to provoke just the right amount of irritation that that toad couldn’t stand but punish. And then strike. She didn’t despair for the scars that surely will cover some part of her body: what is a scar, if not proof of surpassed hardship, of survival and tenacity. What is a scar on her if she can leave a child untouched?  
  
In the night she still gifts her blood, a warning now more than a mere whisper: now is a rumor, strong enough to be heard by many.  
“A war is coming! Please, protect us! A war is coming! Please, protect us! A war is coming! Please, protect us!   
“Hogwarts will be surrounded. Manned the boundaries. Protect us. You will have to do your duty to our school.”  
  
₪₪₪  
  
She raised her hand before Hermione could even think about it and Umbridge gave her permission to speak, ignoring Dean Thomas; because he is a Gryffindor and she is a Slytherin, even if Akilea only wants to pluck her eyes out of that toady face.  
  
“Akilea Moreleeves, professor. I have a question on the casting of the spells: I understand that this is a curriculum approved by the Ministry, but I don’t see even an hour of actual spell practicing, even when we all knew that it must exist, for Ministry decrees none less! This year we have our O.W.L.S. and I would hate to fail them because I didn’t practice even a single time before the exams.”  
  
The splendid purple color in the face of the toad made the day for many people. Akilea won the first detention with the new professor Against the Dark Arts, her first detention in general: she was quite eager to find if it would be first Veritaserum or the blood-quill.  
  
(Later that night, the fifth-year girl spotted a newly fresh scar on her right hand: she proudly displayed in her common room, terrorizing purebloods about stolen blood and letting every person aware of the danger by next morning. She did have a nice little chat with Susan, a very sprint Hufflepuf girl during breakfast.)  
( _I must not be disrespectful of my superiors._ )  
  
₪₪₪  
  
Waiting for Madame Bones to do her investigation into her accusation, Dumbledore’s Army rose again with the name of Defence’s Act: with Harry as the main teacher – _the main leader_ -, Ron as his right hand, and Hermione the brain behind the contract of secrecy – with a little input from Akilea and, surprising, both Lavander Brown and Padma Patil; who knew all the ways to communicate something, even involuntary, if not the top gossips of the school?  
  
In the Room of Requirement, Akilea keys every member of the D.A. into her bunker, showing the way she asked the Room for the creation of the very big structure: this time, every house had at least a member, even the Slytherin. The ones scared for their lives and for their families, the ones who wanted only to practice for the exams, the ones who understood the future better than the others. They were not many, but they were there, under the watchful eyes of one of their own, the Slytherin girl who stood with Harry Potter against You-Know-Who for two times and won. Both times they won.  
  
She also starts to teach meditation, the first step for learning Occlumency: many of the students were rather uncomfortable knowing the Headmaster could search their mind at his will and nobody could do anything to stop him if he really tried. This mitigates at least the splinted headaches Harry has every time Voldysnort is not happy.  
  
₪₪₪  
  
Arthur Weasley is fatally wounded in the Department of Mysteries one night in early December. The healers at San Mungo try all they can to save him, but they don’t have the venom of the serpent that bit the man to create the proper antidote. Arthur Weasley dies with pain in his limbs, alone but for a single girl who speaks softly to him: Arthur close his eyes, knowing that Akilea is trying her best to mitigate the death count in the future war and hoping to replace the son that would have died in the original universe.  
  
₪₪₪  
  
Just after Christmass’ break is over, Dolores Umbridge is condemned to Azkaban for the illegal use of a blood-quill against several minors without their consent, death threats against minors and their families, and for last, unauthorized use of Veritaserum on a minor without his consent or their parents’ consent, without the supervision of a certificated healer and the Aurors.   
  
Is a good day for all Hogwarts: the D.A. became a recognized club, under professor Flitwick who was in equal measure delighted - for the opportunity to teach dueling at young students – and astonished at how well structured the group already was.  
  
(“Miss MoreLeeves, do you have a moment to answer a question of mine? I promise it’s not relevant on your essays.”  
“Of course professor, please ask.”  
  
“As I assume you have heard, I am part Goblin so I have a more profound connection with magic than most people; not so connected like some of my peers, but enough to feel when something important is changing. Like spells casts, or residues of rituals. Or the stir of ancient wards like we have here at Hogwarts.”  
  
There was a knowing look in his smart eyes, mirrored by the calculating in Akilea’s; but if the connection the professor had with his kind could help to defeat Snake-face, the girl supposed she could take a risk like that.  
  
“A war is coming professor. Hogwarts will be surrounded. Manned the boundaries. Protect us. You will have to do your duty to our school.”  
  
She didn’t wait for a response.)  
  
₪₪₪  
  
When pressed, finally Dumbledore informs Sirius Black of the existence of a prophecy on Harry. In the Easter break, both godfather and godson enter the Hall of Prophecy: they exit ten minutes later, face void of all emotion. The prophecy is shattered on the ground and only Harry listens to it. The ending of the year is a somber affair, the Weasley clan still on the edge of figuring how to live without Arthur in their days and the sheer anger at the entire situation.   
  
(Harry is angry because for him Arthur has died in vain: it took more waiting in the line at the desk of the first secretary than to enter and exit the blasted hall. Why the Headmaster didn’t ask Harry to go and destroy the prophecy? How could he looks the Weasleys in face when he could have saved Arthur without too much than a few hours in the Ministry. Harry doesn’t understand.)  
(Ron is angry but not at his friend. Is angry at his father, who worked at the Ministry and should have known that involving Harry could have saved everyone time and resources; but mostly he is angry at the Headmaster because he planned the mission, he approved the mission and left his father to die alone, without trying to find another way. A way that was there from the start.)  
  
(Voldemort screams and rages upon hearing that the prophecy is destroyed and are the near unfortunate Death Eaters that pay the price. Slytherin also means survival: a lot of the non-market candidates, a lot that have heard of the adventure of one of their own who stand with Harry Potter, decide that maybe – _a maybe that often became a certainty_ \- all this hatred and fear and pain are **not worth it**.)  
  
₪₪₪  
  
“A war is coming! Please, protect us! A war is coming! Please, protect us! A war is coming! Please, protect us!”  
“Hogwarts will be surrounded. Manned the boundaries. Protect us. You will have to do your duty to our school.”  
  
When, the wards ask again, when. Soon, so soon, Akilea thinks, between the seconds the drop of blood goes down her finger to the metallic armor plate; soon, because at the end of the year Hogwarts will have Death Eaters as teachers and her friends will be gone, living on the run.   
  
₪₪₪  
  
The Headmaster is ill and the Golden Trio knows this only because Harry saw his hand blackened before a quick glamour hide it: everything connects to the strange-looking ring the Headmaster started to wore at the start of the year, an unusual piece of jewelry even for the eccentric man. Harry press for an answer that Albus Dumbledore refuses to answer, hiding behind pensieve lessons, until the Gryffindor learns that the ring was also a Horcrux, like the diary and the diadem.  
( _He’s not impressed. At all_.)  
  
In the end, Death comes also for Albus, a mercy kill by Severus Snape for protecting his godson, Draco; the funeral pass in a blur, too much despair and dread in the air to breathe properly, too much to plan, to do, to organize for the Generals and their lieutenants, even if nobody calls the other that way.  
  
(“A war is coming! Please, protect us! A war is coming! Please, protect us! A war is coming! Please, protect us!” Akilea talks firmly in the night, her voice steady like how was many years ago, still brave and still giving free blood to the stones, the grass, the water, the woods of trees and doors alike.  
“Hogwarts will be surrounded. Manned the boundaries. Protect us. You will have to do your duty to our school.” Because the war is coming and they must be prepared. She cannot fail.)  
  
₪₪₪  
  
“Go through muggle transportation Harry, Snake-face doesn’t even know what a motorbike looks like, c’mon. Bill or Charlie, or both I don’t remember, is going to catch you at the nearest bus stop.”  
  
₪₪₪  
  
“The Ministry has fallen. The Minister of Magic is dead. They are coming, they are coming. “  
  
Harry wants to fight so much. He wants to help, he wants to protect those people, his first family who welcome him with open arms. But he knows he must go, escape before one of the Death Eater finds him, or Hermione or Ron. He searches for them but it’s Akilea who throws him into the nearest wall of the tent to protect him from a rogue course.   
For a fraction, his mind mourns the pretty dress the girl was wearing - a sleeveless grown in a dark blue, similar to the color of the sky on a clear winter night – now torn apart in various places. And then, his mind thinks that Akilea must go with them, to safety, because she was one of his first friends and she was the proof Slytherin was not completely evil, and she was his friend and he wanted her safe.  
  
“Go! I will hold the fort with Neville and the others, but you must go! Now!”  
  
Before disappearing with Hermione and Ron, he saw her back, clothed in that pretty dress, wild hair in the air, cursing at the invaders like it was the everyday thing to do. It was such an Akilea’s thing that he smiled a bit.  
  
₪₪₪  
  
They follow the Potter Watch for information and the Trio cannot be more proud when they heard about how Akilea cursed both Carrow's black and blue and opened her bunker, under the nose of every Death Eaters in Hogwarts. They laugh at all the pranks the devil twins are smuggling into the school, at how the professor – _the real ones_ – are turning both blind eyes on students and their secrets codes.  
  
₪₪₪  
  
The cup is gone and so is the locket. They have to kill the snake, the familiar a possible Horcrux but that means they have to return to Hogwarts for they cannot surprise Voldysmort in the Ministry: Ron was right, they needed a place very well known to them to lure the bastard in and kill him.  
  
They return home, where they know all is possible because at Hogwarts, helps always comes to who needs it. It’s the first home he ever had and he has all the intention to kick out all the scum present in the school. They emerge in Akilea’s bunker, during one of the weapons session, and it’s Neville who welcomes them: Neville who is now made of steel, stronger than even the _Cruciatus_ , stands tall and imposing but with a calm voice and quiet confidence.  
  
All the D.A. was here. All of them were ready, with all kinds of spells under their tongues, clothed with modified uniforms that look more like armors and all of them sporting muggle weapons near their thigh or tied to their hip bone. Harry sees Akilea and her grin is feral.  
  
₪₪₪  
  
Placing herself in front of Harry, a Slytherin girl defending the Golden Boy against another Slytherin is something she has ever had done. Now more than ever: they can’t afford traitors or weak link in their midst, for the war is nearly here and she has a job to do, a lot of work with Neville and the others put in plans on plans, for only one scope. Survive Snake-face, his minions, and all the idiots.  
  
“Snake-face can burn in hell for all I care. He is not Slytherin House! His minions are not Slytherin House! He is a mad, power-hungry slaver and I won’t serve him, even if we lose this war! I won’t bow to that failure of man, no matter if he will put a glamour on his face. I will stand here fighting him and his gang tonight, and all the nights to come if necessary. Go away if you don’t want to fight, but I will not be ashamed of my house: I am a Slytherin, and the **_Slytherin House today fights_** alongside the other Houses!”  
  
( _Because she has embraced one of the traits, she religiously follows it everywhere she goes: always loyal to those who we call family._ )  
  
“For those under the fourth year: remember of what we talked about! Follow Miss Chang and Mister Smith to safety and remains there, precautions are already be made to assure your lives.”  
  
(She remember Harry and his parseltongue, so she had teach to all the upper years of the D.A. because the Chamber was scary, but nobody could enter but Harry and Voldysnort: she had every intention to help kill the latter.)  
  
She swirls, putting her body in a salute because she is only a lieutenant, but her Generals are here and she needs _orders_ : she has all the defenses ready at her command but she needs the orders to raise them. And Hermione sees her, a knowing glint in her eyes; Ron smiles at her because he knows she held the fort for them; and Harry, Harry simply murmur one word, one word only, and it’s all Akilea needs.  
  
(The warning she whispered in her first year now is real, is here and children would have died. But Akilea _would - could – can – is_ changing the tides of the war and it’s the only thing that matters. For she has freely given blood for seven years, every night without a pause or a glitch, chanting the same cry as always: her blood in exchange of protection, her magical – her inhuman blood – for the protection of the children in the castle.)  
(“ _Go._ ”)  
  
For it’s the Headmaster’s – now it’s Headmistress – duty to rise all the offense the castle can offer against an invader (Hogwarts was built also for this), but it’s Akilea’s blood which strengthens the armors and the statue of all the warriors. So she too goes out in the courtyard, but before professor McGonagall can even speak to give orders to the statues, she slams her hands on the ground, freshly cuts in both of them, and finally – **finally** – she screams the warning that now is reality.  
  
“The war is here! Please, protect us! The war is here! Please, protect us! The war is here! Please, protect us!”  
“Hogwarts is surrounded! Manned the boundaries. Protect us. Do your duty to our school!”  
  
And finally, the old wards, who listen to her since the first year, rise like shining stars with only one job: protect. And there is turmoil in the lake, where animals, squid, and Merpeople live, for the war is here and they will do their part to protect their home; and in the depts of the Forest, the heard prepare his warriors, for Mars is so bright in the night. In the castle, paintings run around all the places to carry message and news, because they are faster than a simple courier and the Death Eaters could not kill them as easily as a child; all the ghost prepare themselves to do their small part: possession is not a skill they use in a school but that doesn’t mean they don’t know how to do it. Peeves was ready too because he will prank to death these people, who think they can extinguish all the waves of laughter in the children; and ready are also the stairs and the doors, the ground and all the stones: because the children may physically fight the invaders, but Hogwarts protects its own.  
  
Akilea bled for seven years, blood freely given with only a warning: Magic did listen and flowers sprouted. White Heather, for protection.  
  
₪₪₪  
  
The bridge is no more, thanks to Finnigan, but at one end there are the students who mastered two spells and only them: create blades from grass and turn them into silver. The werewolves thought they were easy prey but they were not the only ones to hunt in packs.  
  
₪₪₪  
  
Lord Voldemort is still trying to tear apart the wards, even now that he is near one of the passages that allowed the carriages to go to Hogsmeade: all his followers are shooting spells on spells on the invisible barrier that keeps him away from both his prize and his nemesis.  
He didn’t hear the command from inside but can clearly see the result when the dust settles: there are holes on the grounds, big and deep, and some of his followers are now dead or seriously maimed and useless. He rages because how dare these children fight Him.  
  
₪₪₪  
  
Their job was to infiltrate Hogwarts crossing the lake: if even one of them could enter, their Lord promised they would be reward immensely; they keep going, silent in the nights and evil in their heart. They never made to the shores alive, for the Merpeople lured boats away from the group and the Squid take care of who remained.   
  
₪₪₪  
  
Some of Voldemort’s troops try to enter the Forbidden Forest, paying attention to never go deep into the trees because they know acromantulas and other beasts lived here. None came out alive.  
  
₪₪₪  
  
Lord Voldemort was the most powerful wizard alive and he was rumored immortal. This didn’t mean his followers were like him.   
Muggles’ culture was something Cassius promises to himself to study: if this were the result of a lightly armored army, the young wizard didn’t want to think of the destruction they could cause if Akilea gave them bigger weapons; but at the moment, he was glad for the power in his hand: the grenade, as these things were called, was launched near a group of Death Eaters, unaware of the dangers they were in. They all died in the explosion.  
  
Cassius returned in formation with his fellow Quidditch’s friends, ready to ambush some other invaders on his trusted Nimbus 2000. He never wanted to serve a mad man. He never wanted to be a slave.  
  
₪₪₪  
  
“I will escort you to the edge of the forest, no more.”  
  
₪₪₪  
  
“Goodbye Harry. I don’t think we will see each other again, I feel I will be gone before sunset. You were a good friend and I am proud to be one of yours.”  
  
₪₪₪  
  
In the end, so much more children lived to see the end of the war and so many adults died. Fred survived – unlike the original - when a wall collapsed on the Death Eater; Lavander got the chance to kill Fenrir with a well-aimed silver knife at his throat; many others lived with scars or missing limbs, in place of being underground; Lupin still died, this time protecting his wife and so did Colin, for innocents always die in wars. Neville nearly lost his life after being bitten by Nagini: he killed the Horcrux with the Sword in front of everyone, but lost his left leg; Akilea, who bled for the sake of everyone, died in the last attack with a sheet of metal pierced in her right upper body, shielding others until her last moment.  
  
₪₪₪  
  
“His name is _James Sirius Potter_ , for the father I never got the chance to know and the godfather who stayed for me.”  
  
  
“His name is _Arthur Remus Potter_ , for my late father-in-law and my honorary uncle, who both died for me.”  
  
  
“Her name is _Lily Akilea Potter_ , for the mother and the friend who sacrificed themselves so others could live.”

**Author's Note:**

> Edit 14/03/2020:  
> So, I modified the format of the entire text, hoping for more impactful feelings when you read it.
> 
> Furthermore, I made a Tumblr account, the link is here and in the description of my profile: come and scream at me if you want :)  
> https://summer-time.tumblr.com/


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